- What's Mayan is Mayan
- You Better Belize It!
- Jamaican Me Crazy (OK, not relevant, but Amy kept saying it all day)
So one big draw for Amy and I to visit Belize was the Mayan Ruins: some of the oldest human structures in existence. There are several sites in Belize, but Lamanai in the center of the country is the best. We got up to catch the 7:00 AM boat from the island of San Pedro.
Aaron and Javier were our tour guides, and they immediately started cracking jokes. The boat ride was to be "50 Belize Minutes", with a Belize Minute being a somewhat loose interpretation of time (usually longer than a standard minute, big surprise). About 15 minutes into the trip, it started to rain. They brought out a blue tarp threw it over every one and said, "Hold on," This was to become a recurring theme!
In 50 Belize minutes, the rain had let up and we had crossed the Caribbean Sea to the mainland. There we navigated up the Belize River for a bit, eating a breakfast of chicken-filled johnnycakes, fresh pineapple and melon. It was looking more like rainforest, my first trip to such a habitat. Aaron pointed across the river into the trees and said, "Look! Four-legged chicken!" It was a huge iguana lounging in the tree.
We got onto a bus labelled Faith complete with Latin American praying Jesus decals and "Natural air conditioning," meaning roll-downable windows. (It started raining again, so we didn't take advantage of that. ) The two lane road in Belize had no shoulder, fast-moving traffic, and lots of bumps. Faith indeed!
Aaron was quick with the jokes, so you had to listen closely. He pointed to a junkyard full of cars and said, "That's the women's driving school." The road had huge speed bumps every mile or so. "We call those Sleeping Policeman," he said.
We made it to the river around 10:30, where it was sprinkling a little. Amy and I got in the boat along with about 20 other passengers. We were up front. Big mistake. As we tore off down the river, the rain got worse and belted into us. Aaron threw the tarp over us, and then ... we couldn't believe this! ... he opened the front hold where all the life jackets were at and crawled inside. I was in the front, hanging onto this tarp for dear life (across from me was an older woman doing the same thing - I felt for her). Aaron was nice and dry as my knuckles turned blue over the one hour trip down the Belize River. But later I figured ... he probably couldn't shove one of us passengers under there. So at least one of us was dry!
We were like drowned rats crawling off the boat at Lamanai. I checked my cell phone to see if it was still working. Not only was it dry ... it picked up a signal! Here in the middle of the Belize rainforest. I had a voice mail, but I couldn't actually get to my voice mail box, so I did a *69. Some guy at Cornell picked and said, "Hello?" I asked him he wanted. "Oh, we were just testing the Emergency Mass Notification system." I told him it was a good thing there wasn't an emergency - I was in the middle of the Belizean rain forest He wasn't amused. Cornell people are hard to shock.
But it was beautiful here in the ran forest - lush and verdant, and just-washed of course. We sat down to lunch of chicken, rice and beans with homemade habanero sauce, fried plantains, and Belkins, the local Belize beer. That we headed off for the ruins.
We took about four steps into the rain forest and were immediately treated to this growling, whining animal noise. It got louder and louder, until it drowned out the voice of our park guide. "Howler monkeys," he said. They were arguing over turf, and the loudest one would walk off with the prize. Sounds like the project I left behind at Cornell!
The park guide's favorite phrase was, "According to the Department of Archaeology ..." He started every important fact with it, as if the Belize Department of Archaeology was the sole arbiter of truth. We know this much for sure. The Mayan temples are (1) solid (2) old (3) very nicely designed.
It was here that we learned the workers on these temples were short people, while the priests and the godhead figures were quite tall. Amy formulated a grand unified theory at this point. Since both the Mayan priests and vampires are tall ... the priests must have been vampires. Made sense. This is a bit of logic that no one can refute ... even the Belize Department of Archaeology.
The largest of the temples was about 150 feet tall, and the steps were quite step. After the standard CYA disclaimer "Climbing this structure is not recommended by the Parks Department of Belize. You do so at your own risk," about 90% of our group went off to climb it. Amy and I stayed behind. We've climbed the high peaks in the Adirondacks ... this structure was best viewed from the bottom.
I found the whole Mayan architecture to be very postmodern .... about 1500 years before postmodernism. The structures blended into nature very nicely, and quoted off each other. Functional - you could easily sacrifice people from it - yet organic.
By the time we got back on the boat, it was sprinkling again, but we couldn't care less. There was sense we'd never be dry again, so why even try. Aaron poured us plastic cups of rum punch and we passed them down - the party had begun. A boat from Eco-Tours, a rival company, jetted past us and we took a side tributary to race them. But we couldn't get enough speed, and as we hit the main river came into view, we could see their wake. Aaron said, "Hang on!" Then WHAM!! Our boat hit the wake sideways and our rum punches spilled all over each other. It was raining rum punch. "Belizean holy water," Aaron called it.
We got back on the bus and Belkin beers were passed all around. Aaron then dug out what (for me) was the kick over the moon - coconut tarts. He passed them out and then went down the aisle with an open bottle of Beliziean black rum, splashing a little on each of ours. OHMIGOD. Heavenly.
Aaron was taking questions, so Amy brought up the whole 2012 Mayan end-of-the-world thing. He replied that though it'll mean a big end-of-the-year tourism burst for Belize, he believes it's more of an "end-of-the-cycle". The world won't end, just be reborn. "Damn," said one of our compatriots, "Wish I hadn't maxed out all my credit cards!"
And as we got back on the Belize river boat and floated off to the Carribean, we were schnockered and happy and ready for the new cycle to begin.
That night, we went to the Jamba Jerk Hut and had what Amy believed was the best meal in Belize. Jerk pork, chicken, conch, dish ... and a first for me ... lobster! This wasn't your ordinary red Maine big bluging lobster. This was a comparatively small, colorful and totally fresh lobster covered in Jerk sauce (which is in itself warm and spicy and homey). A perfect introduction to this fruit-of-the-sea.
-----
It was a kind of high for the trip that we spent the next two days landing from. We swam and walked and biked and ate more Jamaican food. The details are not as interesting, but it was a rest we really needed. It had been a big year for Amy and I, starting last September in Paris and ending here on the beach of San Pedro. Who knows what's next?
In 50 Belize minutes, the rain had let up and we had crossed the Caribbean Sea to the mainland. There we navigated up the Belize River for a bit, eating a breakfast of chicken-filled johnnycakes, fresh pineapple and melon. It was looking more like rainforest, my first trip to such a habitat. Aaron pointed across the river into the trees and said, "Look! Four-legged chicken!" It was a huge iguana lounging in the tree.
We got onto a bus labelled Faith complete with Latin American praying Jesus decals and "Natural air conditioning," meaning roll-downable windows. (It started raining again, so we didn't take advantage of that. ) The two lane road in Belize had no shoulder, fast-moving traffic, and lots of bumps. Faith indeed!
Aaron was quick with the jokes, so you had to listen closely. He pointed to a junkyard full of cars and said, "That's the women's driving school." The road had huge speed bumps every mile or so. "We call those Sleeping Policeman," he said.
We made it to the river around 10:30, where it was sprinkling a little. Amy and I got in the boat along with about 20 other passengers. We were up front. Big mistake. As we tore off down the river, the rain got worse and belted into us. Aaron threw the tarp over us, and then ... we couldn't believe this! ... he opened the front hold where all the life jackets were at and crawled inside. I was in the front, hanging onto this tarp for dear life (across from me was an older woman doing the same thing - I felt for her). Aaron was nice and dry as my knuckles turned blue over the one hour trip down the Belize River. But later I figured ... he probably couldn't shove one of us passengers under there. So at least one of us was dry!
But it was beautiful here in the ran forest - lush and verdant, and just-washed of course. We sat down to lunch of chicken, rice and beans with homemade habanero sauce, fried plantains, and Belkins, the local Belize beer. That we headed off for the ruins.
The park guide's favorite phrase was, "According to the Department of Archaeology ..." He started every important fact with it, as if the Belize Department of Archaeology was the sole arbiter of truth. We know this much for sure. The Mayan temples are (1) solid (2) old (3) very nicely designed.
It was here that we learned the workers on these temples were short people, while the priests and the godhead figures were quite tall. Amy formulated a grand unified theory at this point. Since both the Mayan priests and vampires are tall ... the priests must have been vampires. Made sense. This is a bit of logic that no one can refute ... even the Belize Department of Archaeology.
I found the whole Mayan architecture to be very postmodern .... about 1500 years before postmodernism. The structures blended into nature very nicely, and quoted off each other. Functional - you could easily sacrifice people from it - yet organic.
By the time we got back on the boat, it was sprinkling again, but we couldn't care less. There was sense we'd never be dry again, so why even try. Aaron poured us plastic cups of rum punch and we passed them down - the party had begun. A boat from Eco-Tours, a rival company, jetted past us and we took a side tributary to race them. But we couldn't get enough speed, and as we hit the main river came into view, we could see their wake. Aaron said, "Hang on!" Then WHAM!! Our boat hit the wake sideways and our rum punches spilled all over each other. It was raining rum punch. "Belizean holy water," Aaron called it.
We got back on the bus and Belkin beers were passed all around. Aaron then dug out what (for me) was the kick over the moon - coconut tarts. He passed them out and then went down the aisle with an open bottle of Beliziean black rum, splashing a little on each of ours. OHMIGOD. Heavenly.
Aaron was taking questions, so Amy brought up the whole 2012 Mayan end-of-the-world thing. He replied that though it'll mean a big end-of-the-year tourism burst for Belize, he believes it's more of an "end-of-the-cycle". The world won't end, just be reborn. "Damn," said one of our compatriots, "Wish I hadn't maxed out all my credit cards!"
And as we got back on the Belize river boat and floated off to the Carribean, we were schnockered and happy and ready for the new cycle to begin.
That night, we went to the Jamba Jerk Hut and had what Amy believed was the best meal in Belize. Jerk pork, chicken, conch, dish ... and a first for me ... lobster! This wasn't your ordinary red Maine big bluging lobster. This was a comparatively small, colorful and totally fresh lobster covered in Jerk sauce (which is in itself warm and spicy and homey). A perfect introduction to this fruit-of-the-sea.
-----
It was a kind of high for the trip that we spent the next two days landing from. We swam and walked and biked and ate more Jamaican food. The details are not as interesting, but it was a rest we really needed. It had been a big year for Amy and I, starting last September in Paris and ending here on the beach of San Pedro. Who knows what's next?
No comments:
Post a Comment